


Watching over you

by imoutragious



Category: Chronicles of Narnia - All Media Types
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-20
Updated: 2017-10-20
Packaged: 2019-01-20 06:06:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,208
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12426564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imoutragious/pseuds/imoutragious
Summary: A series of drabbles from different characters viewpoints about their thoughts towards the Just King.





	Watching over you

**Author's Note:**

> I have always had a soft spot for Narnia and especially Edmund Pevensie. I wrote this years ago (probably 2009) and finally had the desire to publish. I hope you enjoy.

Turning over for the umpteenth time his ears, over the racquet the wind was making and Eustace's snoring, detected a small moan emitted from one of the hammocks. He shifted slightly to give him a better view of the three other hammocks that hung from the ceiling and attempted to see who had made the sound, for when a man can't sleep he has to entertain himself anyway he can. 

Reepacheep at the top, seemed to be sleeping soundly on his front his treasured tail curling happily above him; Eustace was below him, sleeping also on his front his mouth wide open as if he were trying to catch a small insect unawares, he was half responsible for the noise. 

When he came to Edmund however he was displeased to see that his face did not mirror the bliss and peace that was shown on his other companion’s faces. He was positioned slightly below him on his back, his head turned away from him, giving Caspian a reasonably good view. In the poorly lit cabin he could make out the irregular rise and fall of Edmund's chest and if he strained his ears he could hear his laboured breaths. Abruptly his head jerked to the side and he uttered another moan of discomfort. Now that he could see his face properly he could see that Edmund’s dark eyebrows were conjoined in the centre his face a frown and his eyes screwed shut. 

As the minutes wore on he became ever more restless and Caspian began to feel growingly more uncomfortable at his friend's blatant suffering. Gradually his murmurs of affliction turned into ineligible utterings that Caspian at first could not comprehend. Straining he eventually was able to make out the odd word as the teen writhed in his own unknown hell. 'no...please...no...don't'

Said boy was now crying uncontrollably, his voice breaking as he whispered 'no' over and over again. 

Caspian had never seem someone in so much pain and sorrow, to be trapped in such a horrendous memory that it reduced them to tears. When his father had died he had never experienced dreams like Edmund was having now.

Deciding that he could not watch anymore Caspian flung his blankets off of him, forgetting Reepicheep who sprung into the air and back onto the ropes with no thought at all. Slightly unsteady his feet stumbled towards Edmund’s hammock and he looked down momentarily as his friend squirmed and convulsed in oblivious distress. Cautiously he reached his hand out and placed it on Edmund’s forehead which was cold and damp. At the touch of Caspian’s hand he jerked, both the king and mouse held their breath wondering if he had woken. Almost immediately he quietened his mumbling's slowly disappearing until the only noise he made was laboured breaths as his breathing started to calm. He also stopped thrashing and after a few whispered soothing words from Caspian he was left only trembling. 

As he stroked the boy’s forehead he couldn't help but think how unnaturally cold Edmund’s skin was, he couldn't understand why, the cabin was warm, almost too hot. Then he remembered something from when the kings and queens of old had visited last time.

_The night before the battle at Aslan's How they were attempting to sleep in one of the tombs smaller chambers. Somehow he had managed to fall asleep but sometime before Dawn he was roused by whispers and far away shouts. As he came round he realised the noise was coming from inside the room and turned over cautiously to see what was happening. In one of the chambers darker corners he could make out Susan, Lucy and Peter knelt around something. Listening closely he could make out some of their conversation, 'shhh Ed, we're here.' Peter had been near to cradling his brother. Then he heard Lucy say in a small, slightly worried voice, 'Peter, his skin is so cold' she had looked up at him then Peter looked at Susan for an explanation. 'The White witch?' she whispered. At the sound of her name Edmund had lurched awake gasping and bolting upright. 'Ed? It’s okay we're here, she's gone. Shhh, it's alright' Peter rubbed small circles into his back as Edmund clung to his brother eyes screwed shut. At that moment he had felt that feigning sleep was appropriate; he hadn't wanted to impose with him nearly summoning the Witch a few hours previous and being the reason Edmund had been had his sleep broken. He had listened for the rest of the night as the young teens consoled their brother; in a way it made him feel even more lonely and foreign to the situation he was in._

__

_Sometime, before Dawn, the kings and queens fell asleep; he had taken this as an opportunity to flee the chamber; the power of the siblings' love bad almost suffocated him and he was very much glad to be able to breathe again._

__

_Whilst he sat outside and he thought, amongst other things, about what Lucy had said. The how had always been unbelievably hot despite being made of frigid stone, so how could Edmund have been freezing, especially after a nightmare? The only logic he had been able to come up with was that the scar he had received when the Witch had stabbed still contained some shards and particles of her wand; and that every time he had a nightmare, somehow those shards detected her presence in his mind and induced his temperature to drop like a constant, physical reminder. Caspian had been baffled; magic had been a very new concept for him._

This memory evoked the idea that Edmund here and now was, or had been dreaming of the White Witch. 

'He seems to be better' spoke Reepicheep, Caspian nodded. 'you helped him' he added, to this Caspian shook his head then said 'he just needed to know someone was here, that whatever ghastly images he had in his head weren't real.' 

Gingerly, he removed his hand, pleased when he stayed calmly asleep. 

'I think we should return to our beds sire' said Reepicheep

'Yes your right' he retreated slowly back to his hammock. 'Good night Reep.' 

'Good night sire.’

Caspian settled down into his blankets finally realising that the commotion outside and Eustace's blasted snoring had subsided for the mean time. 

He reflected on what had happened; mentally he felt slightly shaken; he had no brothers or sisters so he had no idea what to do in that sort of situation. Seeing someone, like Edmund whom in a strange way he looked up to, weak and defenseless felt wrong. His tongue was as sharp as his sword and his movements as agile as his mind; it was like Edmund was two different people, a courageous fighter, strong souled and then a small venerable child; the two just didn't fit together.

Strangely though this made Caspian respect him even more; he wasn't an invincible hero, he was a good human being whom all could learn from, even Lucy. Smiling at the thought, Caspian looked over to Edmunds hammock, checking he was still sleeping soundly, closed his eyes and waited for sleep to take him; it didn't take long.


End file.
